


Garden of Everything

by TheRoseDuelist_030609



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Adventure in the great wide somewhere, Belmont family secrets, F/M, Fix-It, Girls just wanna have fun, I'M FIXING IT, Like...REALLY slow, M/M, Slow Burn, This was a fun idea so I'm running with it, Warnings May Change, mostly inspired by the shared worldview between Dracula and Trevor, no beta we die like writers, trio shenanigans, wolf alucard shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24566002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRoseDuelist_030609/pseuds/TheRoseDuelist_030609
Summary: Any one of them could have stood up and said, 'No! We won't behave like animals anymore!'  What if someone had saved Lisa that terrible day?  What if that someone had been the last of the Belmont clan? What if Trevor is now the special guest to the Tepes home for his gallant rescue?  Fate is changed.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Sypha Belnades, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont, Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades, Trevor Belmont/Sypha Belnades
Comments: 16
Kudos: 227





	Garden of Everything

“I hate my life…!” Trevor grumbled yet again. It wasn’t hard to hate his life, his thirty years upon the Earth had not been very kind. And now, with the cold biting at his skin and hunger gnawing at his belly, there was little to be grateful for.

Trevor could feel winter’s chill only grow stronger as the sun went down. He currently wore a simple grey, hooded tunic and brown coat, which he pulled tighter around himself to stave off the early morning cold. He would need to acquire better clothes for the inevitable snows and soon. A bigger cloak, too. Something heavy, lined with nice, thick fur. That’d be nice.

At present, however, a soft bed and a hot meal was his first order of business in the city of Targoviste. While the greater city of Wallachia, Trevor could only vaguely recall visiting it a handful of times as a child and had avoided it in the near two decades since. But exhaustion and hunger inevitably drove him to enter the city gates in search of food and shelter for the night. If he was lucky, he might be able to find some sort of work to earn some extra coin to acquire his furs and continue westward.

But as he pressed on through the city, he became somewhat anxious. One would naturally assume that following the main road would provide some sort of inn, fires lit and doors open, ready to welcome travelers to the city. An open pub was to be expected, at the very least. But every window of every house was dark, cold and uninviting.

In the eerie silence of the street, Trevor nearly jumped when he heard the distinct click of metal and the scrape of a door opening. Warily, he turned towards the door in question, the tailor’s shop, and saw the pale face of a young girl peeking outside.

“Hullo, there!” He managed a smile, earning a sweet smile back. “I know it’s a bit late...early?...but where is everybody?”

“They all went to burn a witch,” she chirped. “Only the grown-ups, though. None of us kids get to—”

She was abruptly cut off as she was drawn back inside, the door shutting and the distinct sound of the bolt locking again almost echoing through the empty street. Trevor was once again alone in the cold night.

“A witch, is it…?” He sighed and continued walking. He might have to settle with sleeping outside in the cold tonight, as he doubted any of the inns would be open for business with something like a church sanctioned witch burning going on.

Trevor didn’t like priests on good days, and fire even less often. But both at the same time? This might have been the wrong day to come to Targoviste.

Trevor didn’t mean to follow any real road, actually surrendering to spending the night outdoors at this point. But his feet drew him on. Likely from the barely recalled memory of his few visits here as a boy still remained, though he didn’t really recognize anything.

Dawn was coming, but the sky only grew darker as he made his way through the city. The streets became larger, cobbled with stone, strangely cold and uninviting. The buildings grew taller, darker, more menacing in the darkness.

And then, turning some random corner there was golden light shining on the road ahead.

Not the sun. It wasn’t coming from the East, but from the North. Trevor could hear voices, but also the unforgettable sound of wood being devoured by flame. Without meaning to, he had come straight to the one spot he had been hoping to avoid at all costs. He didn’t want any new fuel to his nightmares. Certainly not the sort already echoing that of his worst visions.

‘Dammit…!’

But unable to keep himself from looking, he saw the massive crowd standing around a massive pyre.

Trevor managed to hear past the murmuring crowd, the chanting priests, and the roaring fires to the woman at the center of it all. He heard her voice, rough from screaming and breathing smoke. But he could hear her desperate and frightened words, and easily determined one single, unshakeable truth.

That woman was not a witch.

Nothing else mattered to him in that moment. Not his hunger, not the cold, or his exhaustion. Only her pleas of mercy for everyone around her as she surrendered to the flames. He charged into the crowd, right down the center of them, towards the altar. No one was fast enough to even try to catch him. None of them would have thought someone would protest the blaze, much less ever charge right into it.

Leaping across the pyre, Trevor drew a knife the same instant he caught hold of the post to cut the ropes binding the woman to her certain death.

Pained whimpers and harsh gasps left the woman’s lips as she tried to turn and see him. “Who—”

“Hold on! Just hold on!” He urged, trying to focus on the ropes. Even as the memory the fire that raged mercilessly that night years ago mocked him with heartache. Even as animal instinct screamed at him to let go, escape the pain and run away. But even as these flames resonated with the fires that robbed him of everything so long ago, Trevor cut faster, flinching under the incredible heat of the fire but refusing to yield to it.

At last, he got through the thick chords and she started to fall. Catching her up to keep her out of the flames below, Trevor hoisted her across his shoulder and jumped. They leapt clear of the flames, hitting the ground with varying cries of pain as they rolled down the altar steps. It was a small eternity before the steps ended, Trevor was not looking forward to the inevitable meeting with his bruises tomorrow, but upon catching his balance again, he rushed to the woman’s side.

“I’ve got you, you’ll be alright,” Trevor insisted, catching the woman up and holding her as gently as he could. Trevor couldn’t hold back his grimace at the burns to her arms and legs. She wasn’t just burned, she was covered in scrapes and bruises, and she doubtless had broken bones from the priests beating her long before this night. But she was alive. That was the most important fact. Getting out unscathed would be a luxury they couldn’t afford when compared to just getting out with her life. “Just hang on! I’ll get you—”

“YOU DEFY THE WILL OF GOD!”

The voice echoed through the quiet of the town square, matched only by the blazing fire. Trevor looked up to the priest to shout at him, a Bishop in white and red robes, and met the man’s glare, unimpressed. All had fallen silent, either because of the Bishop’s outcry or Trevor’s rescue, and all eyes fell upon him with uncertainty and astonishment.

Without guilt or doubt, Trevor stood up with the woman cradled protectively in his arms. The injured woman whimpered and shivered in his embrace, but she still managed to circle her arms around his neck to return his hold, hiding against his shoulder as she cried in pain and relief. She had been prepared to die mere moments ago, she would need time to overcome that.

At this moment, Trevor had to overcome the equally tricky issue.

“This is a God-willed punishment of a witch! You dare to defy His word?!” The Bishop barked. “You would trespass upon the sanctity of the church by tearing this creature from the fires of retribution and damnation she was meant for?”

His words managed to shake some of the people out of their stupor and into outcries and whispers of anger.

“You dare stand before us with such a transgression? Are you a minion of hell, come to defile the church’s work? You—”

“I DON’T GIVE A FLYING RAT’S ASS! YOU LOWLIFE MOTHERFUCKER!” Trevor finally shouted back, silencing the murmuring crowd and catching the bishop totally off guard. “There are no witches here! No real witch begs for forgiveness for her killers! To her dying breath, she would be cursing every man, woman and child in this fucking city! Instead, she begs for mercy for you!”

He felt the woman in his arms turn her head against his shoulder, but he didn’t dare look at her. He might lose his nerve if he saw whatever raw emotion was in her eyes right now. He needed his anger to fuel him now, not the mercy that had him jumping into the flames mere moments ago.

“You’re all here watching a woman burn to death like it’s a fucking street show!” Trevor shouted, holding the woman closer. “Are you all entertained because she’s supposed to be a witch? Or are you all just so sick that you’ll enjoy watching anyone die for a good laugh? Considering that, who’s the real monster here?”

Much of the crowd flinched at that, looking to each other and shrinking back at what they saw in each other's eyes.

“That woman has been declared a Witch by the Holy Church!” The Bishop spat, swift to collect himself and rally outrage. “You will surrender that Witch to the flames and submit yourself to punishment! Take them!” He commanded anyone and everyone.

So much like that night so many years ago, Trevor was alone. Caught between fire and flood. But that was another day. This time, this day, he was older, bigger, and stronger than the thirteen year-old boy of that terrible night. This time he could do something. This time he could save someone.

“And you get to decide that, yeah?” Trevor demanded, counting the priests and regular men closing in around them. Ten churchmen; at least () others. “You’ll excuse me if I don’t take the ravings of a pyromaniac priest to heart!”

Catching one of the jars of oil with his foot, Trevor kicked it directly at the closest priest. The clay shattered against him, covering him in oil. Standing so close to the pyre, the poor sod almost immediately caught fire. His screams of panic were enough to draw all eyes just long enough for Trevor to take off into the crowd. No one tried to stop him. Instead, they made way, likely out of shock and fear of what he might do to them if they were in his way. He made it through to the nearest alley and ran.

He escaped the hot glow of the pyre in the square for the ice-cold safety of the narrower streets and alleyways. He ran hard and fast, though he struggled not to aggravate the poor woman’s burns, comfort would have to come second to their survival. He would stop every few moments to readjust her and then make a cut in a different direction to lose whomever would come after them.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get us out of this. Somehow.”

Though he wasn’t certain just how. It was harder to maneuver and he couldn’t scale buildings the way he usually would while carrying the woman. Never mind that she was injured, Trevor was determined to carry her as far as he needed to in order to protect her. Full strength or not, the woman was as tall as Trevor—maybe just a little taller—so she was just a little unwieldly. But hiding her somewhere while he acted as a distraction wasn’t an option either. While Targoviste was out for blood and Trevor was now a target, there was no way she could escape on her own with her injuries.

“’M so…so s-sorry…!” The woman shivered with pain, somehow able to follow that his thoughts were on the hopelessness of their situation.

Trevor managed a smile, strained though it was. It was ridiculous for her to be apologizing for getting rescued. “You’ve got better things to be saying than that at a time like this! Nicer things! More imaginative things! What’s your name?”

She blinked, her tired eyes sparkling with some amusement at the sudden shift in topic, as well the simple question at such a severe time. “Lisa…”

“Hello, Lisa. My name’s Trevor,” he chuckled. This really was a ridiculous time for introductions, but he needed something to distract her from her pain, no matter how arbitrary. “It’s very nice to meet you. Shame it had happen under current circumstances. But! Sometimes, the worst situation can be made better by one good meeting! That’s what my mother used to tell me anyway.”

“Trevor…” Lisa smiled as his name rolled off her tongue with a sigh.

“You got a family, Lisa? Married?” He pressed on, moving further into the cold shadows.

She breathed a tired laugh. “A wonderful husband…and-and a beautiful son…”

“I bet they’re worried sick about you!” He sighed, shifting her weight. Their pursuers were getting closer. “Let’s go! Hold on to me and keep quiet!”

They shot off again, ducking into the shadows and slipping around anyone they heard moving nearby. They succeeded in staying out of sight, but the space they had to move was steadily getting smaller. They weren’t seen, but Trevor caught sight of lanterns or torches, or the occasional back of someone looking for them.

Trevor just barely dashed across a small passageway to hide in the shadows again when he saw a small group of men were actually knocking and beating down any doors in search of them. Luckily, they had already covered the back and moved on after not finding Trevor and Lisa hiding in any of the buildings.

Unable to risk talking, all Trevor could do was listen. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, as well as his and Lisa’s labored breathing. He could hear the passing steps of a dog padding through the alleyway nearby. He could hear the mob, though they were still far enough away for the moment, but not for much longer. Trevor knew the people of Targoviste wouldn’t rest until they turned the city over, which meant he couldn’t rest between search parties. If they could just make it outside of the city, they might have a fighting chance—

“Mother!”

This new outcry would have been startling enough without coming from behind Trevor. He hadn’t heard anyone moving nearby before that, and yet a tall, golden-haired man dressed in black with a long-sword on his hip was running right for them.

“Adrian…!” Lisa gasped, stretching out her poor, burned arms towards the newcomer. While her acknowledging the other man as her son was somewhat allaying to Trevor’s worries, he couldn’t really relax, whether it was his heightened sense of danger or simply his bruised pride that someone had made it so close without alerting him.

The blonde man, Adrian, was all too relieved to take his mother into the safety of his arms. With remarkable ease, taking her weight without any trouble at all. “When I heard you had been taken, I didn’t think I’d make it in time!” He gasped. “I was so certain you were already dead…!”

“Oh, Adrian…!” Lisa sobbed, every hiccup tinged with the pain of broken ribs and burning lungs. “I knew I wasn’t going to…! I was so scared…! But he saved me…! Trevor saved me…!”

Adrian met Trevor’s eyes and smiled with so much relief and gratitude, he actually glowed. “Thank you.”

Trevor was stunned, unable to blink or breathe. It wasn’t from how beautiful the other man was—incredibly!—or how bright his gold eyes glittered—dazzling!— or even just how rich his gold-trimmed black coat and frilly white shirt must have been—damn!—that ultimately stopped the Belmont in his tracks. It was his teeth, white, perfect with exceptionally long canines that barely allowed him to close his mouth. They were perfect for swiftly ripping flesh from bone. They were perfect for taking blood and life, draining it from whosoever was unfortunate enough to be found alone in the dead of night.

They were a Vampire’s teeth.

Trevor immediately worried if he hadn’t actually made a colossal mistake. He couldn’t exactly rely on the Church’s judgement of someone being a Witch or Demon worshippers, not after what had happened to his family. But he couldn’t help but wonder if they hadn’t actually been on to something this time.

Vampires had thralls, even willing agents among humans, to get by through the years of change. It wasn’t unheard of for the thralls to take the fall for their undead masters, it happened more often than the actual Vampire answering for their atrocities. Especially at the hands of regular people, especially without the intervention of a real slayer.

But as he watched the man in black hold his mother as she cried, Trevor recognized the light in Lisa’s eyes. Relief and the deep love of a mother for her child she feared she would never see again. His mother had often held him and looked on him with that same light in her blue eyes when she returned from a long hunt.

The clamor of the mob moving nearby was enough to startle him out of his reverie. Even if he wasn’t certain of the actual circumstances of whatever was happening at this point, or whatever would unfold after this, he was certain of one thing. Lisa was neither a Witch nor a Vampire, so he couldn’t regret rescuing her. He wouldn’t let himself regret it.

“Get her out of the city,” Trevor told him as he tore off his cloak and his pack. “I can draw them after me, but only for so long. You have to get her out of here as quickly and as quietly as you can. They can’t find you. Understand?”

“What are you going to do?” The blonde man blinked, watching him work with more than a little uncertainty.

“Run like Hell’s on my heels,” Trevor grimaced, bundling his pack up in his cloak. He did his best and now could only hope it looked like he was still carrying someone. Looking back to the Vampire, he managed a grin, “Then I’ll turn around to greet it.”

“Trevor, no…!” Lisa actually tried to escape Adrian’s arms, reaching out to catch hold of Trevor’s sleeve. As if her weak grasp would somehow be enough to stop him. “We can run...! You can…come with us…!”

He actually felt glad, happy even, that she wanted to stop him. Neither of them had any delusions about what would happen to him when the mob caught up with him. And they would catch him. But he couldn’t accept surrendering either Lisa or himself to the church in a futile plea for mercy.

“You’ll be all right now,” Trevor told her, smiling as he hefted his disguised pack. Looking back to the blonde Vampire, he could only hope for the best. “Just go opposite of where I’m going. Easy.”  
“They’ll kill you…!” Lisa continued to plead with him. “You can’t…do this…!”

Trevor couldn’t deny the likelihood of this, yet he kept on smiling. “Dying has never frightened me.”

He couldn’t risk lingering any longer. He took off running into the black and red night.

Trevor made no effort to hide, to sneak around the mob or escape the light of their torches. He made as much noise as he could without slowing down, pushed through as many people as possible without getting caught. He was a bit rusty, but stone-cold sober, so he was capable enough to charge right through the thick of them and not be stopped. None of them had the strength to stop him alone, but they were caught so unprepared that the group of them couldn’t brace to halt him together.

“There!”

“They went that way!”

“After him!”

“Witches! Witches!”

Their angry shouts and frantic footfalls close behind him kept him moving. Running for his life was more than enough to burn through any leftover booze in his blood, but it was in that adrenaline-fired sobriety that the simple truth became clear. The truth that that this was the end for him.

And yet, throughout the endless run through the dark, Trevor felt strangely happy.

He was completely honest with Lisa when he said he wasn’t afraid of dying. Not when a life without purpose or meaning was infinitely more frightening to him. As much as he wanted to care, about the people, the land, the monsters in the night, he couldn’t. Not about the people around him, not even about himself. He had whittled so much of his soul away through the years he had begun to wonder if there was anything worthwhile left anymore.

Yet seeing Lisa burning alive had moved his heart and soul in ways he hadn’t felt in ages. He didn’t think anything else had shaken him out of the fog of desolation so quickly since the burning of his home.

His mother, his uncles and his cousins had all told him that his life was for the people of Wallachia. For the first decade of his life, Trevor was brought up with morals, pride and love for the land and its people. But with their deaths and the burning of the Belmont’s ancestral home, Trevor had become lost. He couldn’t even really remember how he had survived that night. He was left adrift among the people he should have called his kind but never could. The greatest enemy of the Belmont clan was not the ancient creature of the night they had hunted through generations, but the very people they had protected all their lives.

No, it was better that it would all end this way, Trevor decided. He was the last of the house of Belmont. And now he finally felt like the Belmont his mother always told him he would be.

Saving Lisa from the flames was probably one of the better things Trevor had done with his life. On some level, he felt he had rescued a small piece of his own Mother from the fires. And dying at the hands of the crazed mob and the church was probably among the better ways for him to die. Far better than poisoning himself with each drink. Far nobler than wandering in search of a purpose and a hope he knew he would never find.

As he found himself back in the courtyard, back before the pyre burning bright and grim, Trevor turned to meet his pursuers. He looked at the angry faces surrounding him, the hands bearing weapons and torches, and was left with only one thought in his head.

He hoped his mother was proud of him.

Trevor saw the people part just enough to allow the Bishop and the other men of the Church to step through. They didn’t look the slightest bit winded or sweating, as they likely left the pursuit to the people, and instead they sneered at Trevor ending up right back where the chase had started.

“There is no where you can run! God himself has brought you back to the flames!” The Bishop declared with outstretched arms. Trevor heard some of the shouting dim down to reverent muttering. “Surrender the Witch and yourself to His justice and mercy!”

Trevor waited, scanned the crowd before once again settling on the Bishop. Then he grinned as broadly as he could manage, and watched the man’s face go pale in the garish firelight as he let his cloak unfurl and drop his pack on the ground.

The crowd went silent in bewilderment, then started to scream and shout anew as understanding sank in. It was honestly hilarious, Trevor just couldn’t find the energy to laugh at them.

“Not the best night for either of us, I reckon,” he called back to the Bishop. He’d thought the man ugly enough before, but it was nothing compared to the vicious anger the purpled the Bishop’s face now. This time, Trevor did laugh.

“FIND THE WITCH!” The Bishop shouted over the murmuring crowd. “THE CHURCH DEMANDS THIS MAN’S LIFE FOR HIS TRANSGRESSION!”

Trevor could have honestly defended himself beyond running. He had the consecrated whip and the skill to use it against men and monsters, as well as an edge in hand-to-hand combat that no commoner would be able to match. But the people who now had him surrounded had numbers on their side.

This was right. Trevor could feel it in his heart of hearts. If he died tonight, he would be satisfied.

It had been so long since he’d spoken his full name aloud. Trevor was somewhat pleased to be allowed to say it now, in his final moments, with pride. “I am Trevor of House—”

He was cut off by the incredible sound of metal slicing clean through stone. It was something Trevor had never actually heard before, but somehow he knew that’s what it was. An ancient instinct, a boyhood fantasy, told him that it couldn’t be anything else.

But even Trevor never would have dreamed of a sword, moving through the air as if it had a will of its own. He never would have believed the long-sword he saw earlier on the Vampire’s hip could cut stone, much less move on its own. And yet the mob jumped back as the blade circled Trevor under its own power, marking the ground as a warning should anyone cross the line.

The next thing Trevor knew, someone leapt down from the dark black sky to settle against his back. A startled glance revealed a head of luxurious blonde hair, as well as Lisa looking over her son’s shoulder to meet his gaze with a relieved smile.

As the sword came back, cutting a circle around the trio, Trevor felt his earlier serenity ignite with frustration and blaze hot with rage.

“You were supposed to run the other way, stupid!” Trevor shouted, even as he took mild comfort in standing with the Vampire’s solid form at his back. “What in the ever-loving-fuck did you bring her all the way back here for?! What, did you think you could take on the entire city of fucking Targoviste?!”

“Didn’t you go, believing that you could win against an entire city?” Adrian snapped back, though his voice was much softer than it could have been. Likely due to his hold on his mother. “Didn’t you come back, thinking you could survive this?”

“Of course I didn’t! That was the bloody point!” Trevor could still go for his whip, but he doubted it would improve anything now. Especially with its consecration being a hazard to his supposed ally. “Saving Lisa was the point! Surviving was just a luxury!”

The mob picked up on the shouting and screaming they had momentarily dropped. But they stayed a safe distance away. Adrian’s sword circled back around, leaving the two men within a strange security of space together.

“And just for the God damned record, that little sword trick didn’t do shit for the ‘She’s not a witch’ argument I was making!”

“Don’t worry,” Adrian breathed, holding his mother close and standing closer to Trevor. “It will be over soon.”

Trevor wasn’t sure if Adrian was trying to comfort him or Lisa. In the end, it didn’t matter. The sky suddenly erupted with fire, raining down to circle the three of them. Trevor braced himself against the Vampire’s back, wanting to run and hide with a renewed fear. He never wanted fire to be the cause for his death, not in the face of a million other tortures.

Which made it especially alarming when the pyre took the shape of a man’s face. Sharp features made terrifying by the ever-moving flames, it looked like nothing less that the Devil himself had risen to greet them at their death.

“You…mongrels!” Boomed the thunder of the creature’s voice. “Wretches! Fools! What have you done with my wife!?!”

The mob cried out, screaming curses and pleas for salvation, drawing back to leave their three victims with even more space. But one voice rang loud and clear, in spite of how dry her throat had to have been.

“Here!” Lisa called, fresh tears rolling down her bruised cheeks. “I’m here, beloved!”

Trevor once more considered the possibility he had made a mistake. A vampire son, her whatever-this-thing-was husband, he couldn’t say a normal person called such things family. He worried, but still couldn’t regret his choice. Not when Lisa looked so honestly relieved to face the flames that had once spelled her doom.

The face looked no less frightening as it took in the sight of the woman, but she and Adrien met the fiery gaze with comforting smiles.

“She’s alive, Father!” The blonde man called. “She’s all right!”

Trevor thought he heard the wind rise and fall like a great sigh of relief. But had no time to consider it for long before the face within the flames hardened with rage and turned its gaze upon the mob that had pursued the group all night. Trevor could feel the pressure of its attention make the air too heavy to breathe or move. The Hunter felt small and weak in the presence of such terrible wrath.

This creature would allow anyone to escape. He wanted blood and he would have it. They were all going to die tonight.

So it came as a shock when Lisa called out yet again.

“Forgive them!”

The plea made the fires shudder, the crowd go still, and Trevor remembered her screaming these same words when she hung upon the pyre awaiting her death.

“You would condemn them for me! Forgive them for me!” Lisa cried, desperate tears pouring down her bruised face and determination burning bright in her words despite the damage to her voice. “Forgive them! Their foolishness, their stupidity! Their ignorance and their conceit! That isn’t all they are! There was at least one man in the entirety of the city willing to risk his life for mine!” She told him, once more shouting over the roaring flames and screaming people. “For that one man, leave them all be!”

The face made no visible changes, remaining silent save for the roaring flames that made up his features. But Trevor had the distinct feeling he was being measured. He fought the instinct to draw back; even harder, he fought the desire to tuck behind Adrian in a poor attempt to hide from the creature’s scrutiny.

After what seemed a long while within an instant, the burning presence finally spoke again. Gently and full of love. “Let us return home now. Lisa…Adrian…”

The fire became a whirlwind, rising higher and burning hotter as it encircled Trevor, Adrian and Lisa in the eye of the storm.

The instinctive fear of fire was nothing to echoing memory of the blaze Trevor’s home had long-since fallen to. The terror of being trapped, of losing everything to the flames sent him back to that fateful night. He struggled not to open his eyes and look for the others in the flames, afraid of seeing his Mother, his uncles, his cousins, or even his sisters looking back at him.

But just as suddenly as the fires had risen, they were gone. Trevor felt no heat, saw no light through his eyelids. Gasping for air, finding cool relief fill his lungs, he fell to the ground as the strength left his legs. But instead of unforgiving stone rushing up to meet him, he felt something soft beneath his hands and knees. Forcing his eyes open at the shock, he found a rich red carpet covering the floor, offering a strange comfort for his collapse.

Raising his head, he found he was no longer in the street, but in a vast hallway. He could only just make out the walls and windows by the light of odd torches placed at odd corners, but he could honestly say he didn’t recognize his surrounding in the slightest.

“Lisa! Lisa, how badly are you hurt?”

Following the new voice, Trevor had to turn to see the small gathering behind him. Adrian knelt with Lisa, though now she was in the arms of another man desperately breathing her name into her cropped hair.

Even kneeling, the man was a giant, his long ebony hair putting any lord or lady to shame for its length and excellence. Like Adrian, he was dressed all in black, however this man’s garb was rather simple travelling clothes that still carried the dust of the road. As though he had immediately rushed to his wife’s side upon returning home from a long journey.

The three of them were a picture of relief and love that should have warmed the heart and soul. Instead, Trevor found his very life’s blood freezing in his veins.

Because, although he had never seen him before in his entire life, Trevor knew this man. As if his face was burned into his blood and his brain, he had not a single doubt who he was.

The enemy of his family. The immortal monster each generation of the Belmont clan had been born and raised to offer up their lives with the vow of slaying. The creature Leon Belmont pursued to Wallachia for the whole of his life.

Dracula.

Vlad Dracula Tepes.

Vlad Fucking Dracula Tepes.

Trervor hung his head, watching his sweat seep into the soft red carpet beneath his hands. “God shits in my dinner once again! I hate my life!”

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it out. Chapter One actually worked out pretty nice for me, I'm proud I was able to write this. Hoping someone likes it! Please review! Feed the writer!


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